Man at Work

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Man at Work Page 3

by Chanta Jefferson Rand


  With Toye hot on her heels, Candace quickly shopped for the items on the recommended shopping list that Gabe had given them when class started. “Whoever coined the saying money slipping through my pockets wasn’t lying. At this rate, I’ll end up emptying my savings account within the month.”

  It was worth practically going bankrupt. If she could secure Zion Realty as a client, she would be sitting pretty.

  “You need these supplies to finish the remodel,” Toye said. “And if you ever find that motherfucker who ran off with your money, it’s on and poppin’!”

  Candace laughed at her cousin’s crude language. “As much as I’d like to strangle him, we are not gangstas. Let’s just get these supplies and get the hell out of here.”

  The pair giggled as they approached the counter and set their purchases on the conveyor belt.

  “Oh, hi there,” the cashier greeted Candace. “You’re back.”

  Candace recognized the same cashier that had checked her out last time she was short of money. She swallowed the embarrassment perched at the tip of her tongue. “Don’t worry, this time I can pay.”

  Nose Ring smiled as she dragged each item across the scanner. “Thinset. Tiles. Bucket. You ladies must be working on a massive project.”

  “Our class instructor told us to buy this,” Candace explained.

  “Oh, you must be taking Mr. Hunt’s class.”

  “No, our teacher’s name is Gabe.”

  She nodded. “Yeah, Gabriel Hunt. He likes everyone to call him Gabe; no formalities. He’s the coolest owner I’ve ever met.”

  “What?” Candace thought maybe Nose Ring had been sniffing paint on lunch break. “Did you say he’s an owner? Of what?”

  “He’s so down to earth. He walks around like a normal guy. You would never guess he owns Sampson’s.”

  Toye interjected, “Hold on. Are you saying Gabe owns this store?”

  “Not just this store. The whole chain. Twelve stores in six states.”

  “Wow!”

  “Yeah, wow,” Candace echoed.

  “Of course, the corporate office is here,” Nose Ring explained. “Mr. Hunt likes teaching classes. He says it helps him stay in practice.”

  Candace was dumfounded. Gabe didn’t look like some uptight professional. She would have never thought he owned anything except that raggedy truck.

  “He’s so dreamy,” the girl continued. “You could fall in love with those eyes. Oops!” Her eyes darted to and fro. “I guess I’d better not lust after my boss like that.”

  Toye jumped in. “I don’t blame you. He is one hunk of a man.”

  “All the ladies here think so, too. He’s a nice guy. And he’s super talented. He built his home from the ground up. It was featured in Architectural Digest.”

  Candace’s attention drifted as the girl babbled on. Apparently, Gabe made quite an impression on everyone he came into contact with. She couldn’t help but wonder why he didn’t reveal his true identity before. And to think, he ran around in paint-speckled clothes and drove a truck that was older than Moses. Maybe he was trying to be incognito, like those mega-rich celebrities.

  Candace glanced at the cashier. “If Gabe owns this whole chain, he must be—”

  The cashier finished her sentence, “Filthy rich.”

  # # #

  “Argh!” Gabe swatted the ball, putting the full force of his stroke behind his racquet. The ball went flying against the wall. Sweat poured from him. His heart pounded in his chest as Phil dove toward the ball and batted it back. The two battled back and forth, returning each other’s volleys. The only sounds were a language of grunting and the echoes of the ball bouncing off the walls. Gabe enjoyed their weekly game of racquetball at an exclusive health club in an area of Miami called The Village where they were both members.

  “Remind me not to play you again,” Phil complained. “I prefer playing Cordell. At least he lets me score.”

  “Cordell, the Director of Product Development?”

  “Yep.”

  Gabe backhanded the ball. “He has to let you win. You outrank him.”

  “I’ll take whatever victories I can get!” Phil huffed as he swung at the ball again.

  “Maybe if you practiced more instead of getting pedicures and shopping for suits, you might be able to beat me,” Gabe taunted.

  Phil’s deep crack of laughter cut through the indoor court. They both knew how hard he worked. He wouldn’t be caught dead getting a pedicure. Now, a manicure—that was a different story.

  The two continued to volley back and forth until Gabe scored the winning point. “I don’t have the energy to whip your ass.” Phil bent over, palms on knees as his labored breathing filled the air. “How do you manage to run Sampson’s, cheat at racquetball, and teach all those classes?”

  Gabe grinned and wiped beads of sweat from his upper lip. “You should have seen this little old lady in my class earlier this week. She had more energy than you. She was feisty and blue-haired. Kept all of us on our toes.”

  Phil reached for a towel and mopped the sweat from his brow. “I hope when I get that old, I have a woman like that by my side who can keep up with me.”

  “You’re too busy catting around. Besides, you know there are no old freaks out there.”

  “Hello? I’m dating one now.”

  “Hah hah! You and your cougars.”

  “Don’t knock it ‘till you try it.”

  “No thanks.” Gabe dropped his racquet into his gym bag. “I’ll let you do all the research. I prefer a woman I have something in common with.”

  “I have lots in common with Louise.”

  “Ugh, even her name sounds old.”

  Phil chuckled. “I’m an equal opportunity lover.”

  “At least tell me you’re getting your senior citizen discount.”

  “Hey, don’t blame me if you’ve dropped out of the dating game.” Phil slung his designer gym bag over his shoulder. From his brand name shorts to his expensive sneakers, Phil was always dressed to impress.

  “I haven’t dropped out,” Gabe defended. “I just haven’t found a woman worth my time.”

  “C’mon man, you’ve got plenty of females throwing themselves at you. You don’t have to find time—they’re worse than termites crawling out the woodwork.”

  Gabe was quiet as he walked toward the locker room. What Phil said was true. He hadn’t found the right woman, but women had no problem finding him. It was so bad that he couldn’t walk through the store now without the cashiers ogling him. Some were coy, managing to coincidentally be around whenever he was conducting class. Others boldly gave him ‘the look.’ It was the same look that had been getting men in trouble since the dawn of time. Even if he was stupid enough to mix business with pleasure, he couldn’t risk being slapped with a sexual harassment suit if things went wrong. He’d worked too hard to build the reputation of Sampson’s.

  “I’m beginning to think you’ll never meet a woman worth your time,” Phil continued. “Other than your casual flings, you haven’t shown interest in anyone in years.”

  “Maybe the ones I’m interested in aren’t interested in me.”

  “Bullshit!” Phil stopped in front of a wood grain locker, and dropped his bag on a nearby bench. “What woman have you been lusting after that hasn’t returned the attention?”

  Gabe shrugged, punching in the code to his locker combination. “I haven’t exactly been lusting after her.”

  That was a lie. Ever since he’d brushed up against Candace in class the other day, and ended up with a hard-on, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. His body had never craved a woman so bad. She’d lit a slow burning fuse that refused to be extinguished.

  “Well, give up the details, man. Who is this mystery woman? Where’d you meet her?”

  “Her name is Candace Jones. She signed up for one of my classes last week.”

  Phil sat on the bench and began removing his sneakers. “That’s what I’m talking about. You don’t ne
ed to look for women. They find you.”

  “This is exactly why I didn’t want to mention it.”

  “No, it’s best you did. What’s she like?”

  “Gorgeous. Smart-mouthed. Intelligent. Legs for days.”

  “Just like you like ‘em. This is actually very fortunate. Now, you can easily get in touch with her.”

  Gabe pulled a valet bag with deodorant and aftershave from his locker. “How?”

  Phil shook his head and stood up. “Man, you really are rusty. She was in your class, right? You know we keep a list of all the class attendees. They fill out a registration sheet. It has their name, address, and phone number. Call her up.”

  “What?” Gabe’s heart rate skyrocketed. “I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’ll look like a damn stalker!” His thoughts flew to the day he followed Candace in the parking lot. She looked ready to mace him and knee him in the nuts. He could think of a lot more productive things he’d like done with his nuts.

  “You’re the one who said she’s not showing any interest in you. It’s not like she’ll be bursting down your door or calling you anytime soon. So, you take the initiative.”

  Gabe stuffed his gym bag and racquet into his locker. “Nah, it seems creepy, not to mention unprofessional.”

  Phil pulled his sweat-soaked shirt off and tossed it into his locker. “Nobody has to know what you’re doing. Tell your secretary to pull the form. You can tell her you’re responding to a complaint. Or whatever. Make up something. Hell, don’t give an excuse if you don’t want to. What’s the point of being an owner if you don’t use the company’s resources?”

  “It’s an invasion of her privacy.”

  “Jeez!” Phil slammed the door of his locker shut. “When did you become so corporate?”

  “When did you become such a pussy hound?”

  “In the tenth grade. But I’ll tell you one thing: When I see a woman I want, I pull out all the stops to let her know. I don’t just talk the talk. I walk the walk, man.”

  Gabe ran a palm across his shaved head. He did want Candace—or at least he wanted to get to know her better. That day in class, standing behind her curvy ass and inhaling the scent of her floral perfume was just too much for him. He couldn’t resist dipping his head low to whisper in her ear. It had been his undoing. For the rest of the class he’d had to fight a stiff dick. Yeah, he wanted her. Too bad she hadn’t returned the sentiment. She’d left so soon after class that day, she was gone by the time he finished answering questions from the other customers. Maybe he’d come on too strong, but her snappy comebacks and wicked smile made him believe she could handle him. He was curious to see whether he was right.

  “Okay,” he relented. “I’ll do it.”

  FIVE

  Toye frowned as she stared at the jagged pattern of tile on the kitchen floor. “It doesn’t look the same as when we did it in class.”

  Candace nodded. “I agree. There’s something we’re not doing right.” They were halfway done, but already she could see their handiwork didn’t have the neat edges. Some of the tiles were loose too.

  Marlowe surveyed the floor. “We should keep going,” she said. “This looks good to me.”

  “I should have started this project the moment class was over,” Candace pouted. “I should not have waited a week. Now, I can’t remember all the steps.”

  “You couldn’t have started any earlier. You were busy repainting and having the plumbing upstairs repaired. You’d better slow down or you’re going to give yourself a stroke.”

  “I don’t have the luxury of slowing down.”

  Ronnie spoke up. “I have a suggestion.”

  Candace shook her head, suppressing waves of frustration. “I don’t want to hear it, Sis. I’m not giving up control of this house to anyone else.”

  “I’m not asking you to give up control. I’m asking you to work smarter, not harder.”

  “Spending what little money I have left to hire another contractor who might leave me high and dry is not my idea of working smarter.”

  “I know someone with excellent qualifications who could do it,” Toye offered.

  “Forget it. I already know you’re going to say Gabe. Ever since we took his class, you’ve been touting him like he’s the second coming. Gabe did this. Gabe did that.” It was bad enough Candace had to listen to Toye ramble on about Gabe during the day; at night, her thoughts were filled with erotic dreams of him. “I don’t want to hear his name again.”

  Toye shrugged. “Okay.” She looked at the bucket of thinset. “I think one problem is that you are not tapping the tiles in place with the rubber mallet.”

  “I don’t have one.” She didn’t add that she was not going back to Sampson’s to get one.

  “I also noticed you’re not using those pegs to keep the tiles in place at the corners. I saw Ga—uh, that guy in class using them.”

  “Aw, shut up.”

  The shrill ring of Candace’s cell phone cut off any smart remarks Toye might have had.

  Candace didn’t recognize the number, but she answered anyway. She hoped it wasn’t anyone from Faith Industries. She wasn’t ready to give them a status report. She answered in her most professional voice. “Candace Jones speaking.”

  “Hello, Candy.”

  Warmth rushed between her legs as his familiar, deep voice called her by his self-imposed nickname. Her pulse raced. Her mouth went dry. A thousand thoughts ran through her mind. But the one thing that came out was, “Why do you insist on calling me that name?”

  Gabe’s sexy chuckle filtered across the line. “I told you, you’re like candy to me.”

  She imagined him licking his lips as he spoke. Images of him drizzling hot chocolate syrup across her most intimate body parts made her stomach flutter. The man turned her on! She had to get her horny ass in line before she drooled all over her cell phone. “To what do I owe this pleasure, Gabe?”

  At the mention of his name, Toye, Marlowe and Ronnie stopped their idle chitchat and turned toward Candace. In unison, three mouths dropped open. Candace almost laughed at their reaction. She was just as shocked to get a call from Gabe.

  “I got your number from the info sheet you filled out,” he answered.

  “Oh really? I guess it’s true. You’ll stop at nothing to get what you want.”

  “Hmm. I like your train of thought, but it’s not like that. It’s perfectly normal for me to contact our customers and follow up after they’ve attended a class.”

  Uh huh. I’ll bet!

  “So,” he cleared his throat. “How did your kitchen renovation turn out? Did you use what you learned in class?”

  When Candace eyed the floor, the despair of her forgotten failure washed over her like a cold tide. “Not exactly,” she admitted.

  “Oh? Why not? Didn’t the products I suggested work?”

  “It wasn’t the products. It was more like a user error.”

  He chuckled again. She closed her eyes, letting the sound wrap around her. Everything about him was sexy—even his laugh. She opened her eyes to find her family staring curiously at her. Toye had a knowing smirk on her face. Marlowe was stifling a smile. Candace rolled her eyes and turned away so they couldn’t see how giddy she felt.

  “Toye says I didn’t use the mallet or those little peg thinga-ma-jigs between the tiles.”

  “They’re called tile spacers,” Gabe supplied.

  “Yeah, those.”

  “Well, I’d be happy to take a look and get you back on track.”

  Her heart flip-flopped at the thought of having Gabe here in her personal space. Would he brush up against her backside again? A thrill of sinful excitement rushed through her. She couldn’t have that man here making her panties wet every time he made a move. “No, no,” she protested. “That’s not necessary. Besides, I’m sure you have a lot going on.”

  “Nothing that’s more important than making sure one of my customers is one-hundred percent
satisfied.”

  The way he said the word satisfied hung in the air like an open invitation. Candace could feel three pairs of eyes boring into her back as she spoke. She looked over her shoulder to see a trio of hopeful faces staring back. When Toye mouthed the word please, guilt flooded through Candace. No matter what her feelings about Gabe, she owed it to her cousin and her sisters to get some professional help. It was obvious they could not do this alone. They were all frustrated. If she was going to take a chance on someone, it may as well be Gabe. He wasn’t some fly-by-night contractor. He owned Sampson’s for chrissakes. If nothing else, at least the name implied a warranty. If she couldn’t trust a major chain like Sampson’s, who could she trust? Plus, she had a deadline looming like an albatross.

  “Um. Okay,” she gave in. “I really could use some advice.”

  She gave him the address and he told her, “I know that area. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

  Candace hung up before she could change her mind.

  I can’t believe he’s coming over here!

  She placed her palm on her stomach to calm the butterflies. She should probably comb her hair and put on some lipstick. She shook her head. This was ridiculous. Why was she trippin’ over a guy she barely knew? Why was she nervous and excited and aroused all at the same time?

  “Well,” Toye prompted, “are you gonna tell us what happened or do we have to get the pliers and pry it from your uptight lips?”

  Candace smiled. “That was Gabe.”

  “I figured that much.”

  “So, what’s up?” Ronnie asked. “What did he say?”

  “He’ll be here in thirty minutes,” Candace said, hardly believing she’d agreed to let him come over.

  “Omigod! We finally get to meet the notorious Gabriel Hunt.”

  Candace smiled. “Yep. He’s coming. He’s actually coming.”

  Marlowe burst out laughing. “And by the looks of things, soon, you might be too.”

  # # #

  Gabe parked his truck along the curb of a fixer-upper in a modest neighborhood. The house needed some curb appeal. If this were his home, he’d add some colorful perennials, paint the porch railings, and place some patio stones leading from the sidewalk to the front door. This area was sprawling years ago, but it had suffered a decline when the bottom fell out of the mortgage industry. He wondered what had prompted Candace to buy a home in this neighborhood. He would reserve judgment. Right now, it sounded like Candace needed his help, and he wasn’t about to let her down.

 

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